


This Christmas, why not Give your Friend your Heart?

by colazitron



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry bakes mince pies and doesn’t quite know what to do with Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Christmas, why not Give your Friend your Heart?

**This Christmas, Why Not Give Your Friend Your Heart**

And it came to pass in the days of early November that Harry Styles decreed what his Christmas 2k11 really needed were homemade mince pies.

“You’re nuts,” Louis calmly answered Harry’s proclamation over the rim of his mug of tea. They were sitting at their kitchen table, Harry googling away for recipes, Louis scrolling through his twitter timeline on his phone.

“Why?” Harry asked, his brows furrowed as if he were genuinely offended. The trick to Harry though was that while he probably was genuinely offended, it was only a very minor offense. So minor Louis might as well ignore it. Ergo that was exactly what he did.

“We’re starting the whole press and radio circus for Gotta be You tomorrow and you want to make mince meat from scratch? When did you even have time to hatch that genius plan between stumbling into the kitchen five minutes ago and now?”

“Yesterday evening when I went to sleep. And making mince meat isn’t that complicated,” Harry insisted.

“Have you done it before?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Then how could you know it’s not complicated!”

“Because I’m not recipe-illiterate. I can look at this and guess how long it’s gonna take me,” Harry pouted and Louis snorted amusedly at the dig at his own culinary skills – or lack thereof.

“Okay,” he shrugged then, sipping the last of his tea and clicking out of the twitter app. “But don’t complain to me if something goes wrong…”

“See if I’ll let you have any of the pies,” Harry threatened. Louis just grinned at him and ruffled his hair as he passed him on the way to the dishwasher to put away his mug.

“You have yet to refuse me anything, Styles. You love me, really.”

“Curse my weak heart!” Harry shouted after him as Louis left the kitchen, grinning to himself as he jotted down the ingredients he was going to need. Humming happily, he went through the storage cupboard, weighing the rest of the shredded almonds and raisins, correcting the amount he was still going to need on his shopping list. Done with that, he rushed into his room to get dressed, because Louis was right about one thing: he couldn’t be entirely sure how long it’d take him to do this.

“Hey, I’m meeting El. I’ll be back tonight, yeah?” Louis poked his head into his room to say and Harry nodded distractedly, trying to decide between two jumpers, before grabbing one and looking up to smile at Louis.

“Sure. Have fun.”

“You too,” Louis smiled back genuinely and was gone the next moment. Harry heard the front door click shut and his heart sank as he pulled the jumper on over his head. Heaving a sigh he tried to shake it off but the feeling stayed lodged in the back of his throat and the base of his stomach. Maybe he’d hoped Louis would want to help? He usually preferred cooking or baking alone – or at least with no interference – so that didn’t really make sense. Neither did the strange feeling of loneliness he suddenly felt wash over him though.

His enthusiasm significantly lessened, he grabbed his wallet, phone and keys, pocketing the items and then reaching for his jacket to pull on. Still lost in thought he stepped into his shoes and locked the apartment behind him, trudging outside into the chilly weather. He called a cab, since he didn’t really fancy a trip on the subway. Being locked into a train with strangers who could recognize his face was not something he felt up to dealing with at the moment.

Before he could feel too sorry for himself though, his phone rang and when Harry picked up, Ed’s cheerful voice greeted him with a, “Hey, mate”. They chatted all through the wait for Harry’s cab and the first half of the drive, before Harry invited Ed over to watch him make mince meat. Ed laughed a little at his culinary endeavour but agreed that mince pies shouldn’t be missing from any person’s Christmas experience and homemade surely had to be better than store bought. Although, as Ed so helpfully pointed out, that probably depended on the quality of the homemade and the store one bought from.

“Thank you, Ed. I will pretend this is not thinly veiled scepticism of my cooking skills.”

“It’s not! I promise. I was just pointing out...”

“Yes, yes. You’re the great pointer-outer. So are you coming over or not?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m not missing this potential deliciousness. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

It gave Harry just enough time to get what he needed and get back home so he agreed easily and hummed along to the radio for the rest of the drive. He tipped the driver generously and when a group of girls spotted him in the supermarket he shot them a smile before rounding a couple corners, shaking them off and trying not to giggle to himself too much. On any other day he would’ve stopped to chat with them for a while, but he had things to do and people to see today, so he just grabbed what he needed as quickly as possible and rushed to the check-out counters. The cashier winked at him when the group of girls started giggling a couple people down the line and Harry smirked back at her.

“Have a nice day, sir,” she smiled at him and winked and he laughed as he wished her a nice day as well before strutting out the door, already on his phone to call another cab. By now he knew the area well enough to call the cab to a couple minutes’ walk away and shake the girls off his trail through the slightly convoluted back alleys. He grinned to himself as he pulled the beanie onto his hair more tightly, hiding his face behind sunglasses and the propped up collar of his jacket. Sometimes life just felt too much like a spy movie not to grin at.

By the time he made it home, Ed was waiting for him by the door.

“You’re late, Styles,” Ed grinned and Harry furrowed his brows at him, pulling out his phone to check the time.

“No, you’re early,” he then said. Ed just laughed at him.

“Worth a try. I figured Tomlinson would be home so I could just come over early,” Ed explained and Harry felt his smile fall and pulled the corners of his mouth back up again.

“Nah, he’s out with Eleanor.”

“Ah, the girlfriend. Good thing I don’t have one, eh?” Ed joked and poked Harry’s side in an imitation of tickling him before following him inside the flat.

“Don’t worry,” Harry picked up the thread of conversation when he dumped his shopping bags on the kitchen counter as Ed sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m sure you’ll find a girl who won’t mind your.... well, you.”

“Harsh!” Ed laughed and nodded to Harry’s implicit offer of tea when he lifted up the box of tea bags and shot him a look.

“Just being honest,” Harry grinned and set about making the tea.

They fell into a routine of easy banter effortlessly and Harry let Ed chatter away as he cut up apples and dates and candied cherries. (“I’m pretty sure that’s not classic mince meat.” – “No, it’s not, but I’m making this suet-free, mostly non-alcoholic kind I found online.” – “Why?” – “So Louis can bring his sisters some home.” – “Aw.” – “Shut up.”) It was way less stressful than Harry had anticipated and when the entire mix of fruit and apple juice and crushed almonds sat simmering on the stove, they got out the board games and played Ludo with two teams each and ridiculous made-up rules so each game dragged on for over an hour. At one point Harry jumped up, panicked, because he’d forgotten to turn the stove off and his mince meat was still simmering. Ed laughed at him and disregarded the death glares Harry shot his way. The dual taste test considered it a full success though (“Mate, that’s amazing!”) and Harry enlisted Ed’s help in filling the hot mixture into jars, screwing them shut quickly and turning them on their head (“Um, why are you...?” – “It creates a vacuum. Makes them keep longer.”). All in all the day was a complete success and when Louis rushed into the flat towards the evening and Harry remembered feeling abandoned in the morning, he shook his head at himself and filed it as a moment of insanity.

“Can I have some?” Louis asked, gesturing to the jars that were lined up on the kitchen counter.

“Nope, those need to rest and mature and stuff so I can use them to make mince pies for Christmas. I’ve decided these will be my presents for all of you to take home,” Harry said, grinning at the pout on Louis’ face.

“You really missed out, mate,” Ed added with a grave expression. “Harry brought forth his first mince meat and an angel of the Lord came upon us and-”

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry interrupted with a laugh and chucked a dice from their last game at him. Ed caught it easily and simply laughed at the reluctantly pleased grin on Harry’s face.

“You gave him some but I don’t get any?” Louis complained in disbelief and pouted even more heavily.

“Well, you weren’t here...” Harry sing-songed while Ed grinned to himself like something about the exchange was incredibly hilarious but he wasn’t going to point it out to the other two. Louis batted his eyelashes at Harry and slung his arms around his neck, whining a litany of “please, please, please, please, please” into his hair until Harry couldn’t take it anymore and cracked.

“Fine. I saved you some in that little bowl on the counter.”

Louis perked up immediately and bounded over to the counter, unwrapping the plastic foil from around the bowl and before Harry could even think to tell him to use a spoon for heaven’s sake, he stuck his finger into the sluggish mass and put it in his mouth. His eyes lit up and he made an appreciative noise that made heat shoot to Harry’s cheeks. He was sensible to praise, okay? From the way Ed smirked at him from the opposite end of the table, he’d noticed.

“This is really good!” Louis proclaimed and then did get a spoon and sat down between them at the table. “Seriously, Haz. Well done.”

Harry mumbled a “thanks” and tried to fight down the blush that threatened to deepen on his cheeks and the ridiculously pleased squirming in his belly. It was just Louis. Louis complimented him basically on a daily basis. He was very giving when it came to praise.

“Aw, aren’t you two just the cutest,” Ed fake cooed at them when Louis leaned over to plant a sloppy kiss to Harry’s cheek for which he earned himself two kicks to his shins underneath the table.

“Ow! And the most violent!” he went on accusingly while he bent down to rub his shins.

They spent the rest of the evening beating each other up on their Playstation and munching away on pizza they’d ordered in and if Harry couldn’t entirely shake the happy feeling that Louis’ easy affection engendered in him, then, well. That was really just business as usual and it was totally okay for Harry to ignore it. Just like he ignored the less than happy feeling whenever Louis would bail on him for a last minute date with Eleanor. Or the squirmy feeling when Louis ruffled his hair and pecked his cheek. The only other option he had was ... well. It was too crazy to even entertain the notion, so ignoring it was.

\---

As the weeks passed, Harry found “ignoring it” more and more difficult. They rushed from interview to photoshoot to TV appearance to interview to public appearance and it was wearing them all thin. Harry’s voice gave out a week before their x-factor performance of “Gotta Be You” and if not for Louis and his strict enforcing of the vocal rest Aston had recommended to Harry and his constant reassurance that he was doing all he could and it was going to be fine, Harry would’ve probably worried a couple of his hairs grey.

More than weakening his immune system, it weakened his emotional defences – all their emotional defences. Harry could deal with colds and sore throats, he’d had to all his life. But this neediness and the seeking comfort with other people almost constantly was new to him. Or at least, he hadn’t known it before x-factor last year. It affected them all and so they spent most evenings piled on one of their sofas, watching movies together and soaking up the companionship. And of course Louis and Harry were a fixture. They were as much part of the group as the other three and there was no doubt that they were there for each and every one of them, but Larry sat in the love seat, cuddled up, while Zayn, Liam and Niall would take over the three seat sofa. They would whisper to each other and touch almost constantly. The comfort they found in each other was undoubtedly what got them through their days, what kept them bubbly and cheerful enough to keep the other three boys’ spirits up. It was almost like it had been back during the days of the live shows. They were living in their own little bubble and when they got a few days off and all went their separate ways to see respective girlfriends, families and mates, Harry sometimes found himself stumbling and catching his breath and feeling incredibly bereft. He knew he was probably being an emotional idiot, but he couldn’t really help how he clung to Louis harder after he’d come out of the shower after a date with Eleanor, smelling entirely like himself again.

He tried not to. He went off to see Ed, whenever Louis was with Eleanor and the other three were busy as well, trying to build a life outside the band. He went to check out flats with him when he planned to move. He came to see him at gigs. He spent time with Lou and Lux and Caroline and when the papers caught wind of the one time she’d let him kiss her, he felt like strangling whoever had blabbered about that.

Sure, she was fit and older and his head spun when he thought about it, because he couldn’t believe she’d actually let him, but there was nothing there other than a good friendship and a bit of mutual attraction. Louis teasing him about it became excessive easily and sometimes Harry would bite back with a snappish retort and Louis would look wounded, or Louis would go too far and Harry would retreat. They bounced between pissing each other off and clinging to each other for comfort and it made it harder on everyone until Liam told them to sit down and talk about it and work through their shit because they couldn’t handle this right now as a band.

So Louis told Harry that he was worried and a bit weirded out by Harry being into someone that much older – which was cool in principle and looked a bit strange in action and Harry told him (for what felt like the 100th time) that nothing had really happened. It was just a snog and neither of them were looking to date each other and it was really difficult to keep on a brave face and smile when he got all these underhanded comments about their age gap in interviews and he could really use the support of his best friend. Louis apologised and Harry jokingly promised he wouldn’t let himself be seduced by just any woman simply because she was older but made it clear that it was his own business who he dated, just like Eleanor was purely Louis’ business. Louis looked at him a bit strangely, like the comparison didn’t make sense to him and Harry internally geared up for round two, but then Louis sighed heavily and smiled.

“You’re right. Sorry.”

They hugged it out and that was that. Larry Stylinson was back to their shenanigans and making people doubt the nature of their relationship left, right and centre. The whole band obviously relaxed around them and the last few weeks before their Christmas break – although filled with tour rehearsals until Harry thought he could probably walk through their choreography in his sleep – blew past. Sometime around mid December, Louis started looking haggard again and his dates with Eleanor didn’t seem to take his mind off whatever was bothering him either. Harry tried asking, but Louis laughed it off as stress and the upcoming holidays that served as a punch-to-the-face reminder of his parents’ divorce last year and Harry didn’t want to push. He tried not to talk about going home or family as much and about a week later Louis cottoned on that Harry would check himself whenever they talked about Christmas and home and ruffled his hair and told him not to be silly.

“You’re part of my family too now and if I can live with you not being there, I can live with my dad not being there.”

Harry swallowed his protest that that wasn’t entirely the same thing and instead let the pleased smile stretch out over his face and beamed at Louis, who laughed in answer and pecked him on the cheek.

\---

A week before they were going to leave for home and Christmas, Harry did a pie baking test run, because as he’d decided to send each of the lads home with pies for their families, he was going to have to do a lot of baking, and couldn’t afford any mishaps. So he spent a lazy Sunday evening in the kitchen with Louis, getting flour all over everything and batting at Louis’ hands to make him stay away whenever he tried to “help”. It was an evening spent giggling and singing along to Christmas tunes on the radio and Harry felt euphorically happy. This was exactly how one was supposed to be gearing up for Christmas. They waited for the pies to be done almost like children waiting for Santa and took turns peaking into the oven to check on the progress. As soon as Harry had pulled them out, he let Louis pick one and set it out onto a plate, grabbed two forks and carried the still steaming pie into the living room, sitting down onto the couch. When Louis sat down next to him and reached for one of the forks, he barely had time to get out, “Dont, you’re gonna burn your tongue!” before Louis went and did just that.

“You’re an idiot,” he said affectionately, when Louis tried to fan cool air into his mouth with his hand.

“How can this be so hot?”

“I don’t know, maybe because the oven was set to 180 degrees?” Harry suggested before breaking off a piece for himself and blowing on it gently, waiting for the slight curl of steam that rose from it to disappear. Before he could eat it himself though, he caught sight of the pitiful look Louis shot him and offered the fork to him instead with a roll of his eyes. Louis opened his mouth happily and let Harry feed him the far more cooled off piece of pie, moaning in appreciation as the flavour spread through his mouth.

“This is delicious,” he assessed and let Harry have the next bite before grabbing his own fork again. Harry wasn’t one to praise himself, but Louis had a point. This was really, really good.

“The recipe was really easy,” he explained and Louis laughed and reached over to pinch his cheek.

“You’re just too humble, Hazza.”

They picked their way through the pie in silence after that until it became clear that one of them was going to get the last bite. With under-their-breath-giggles, they fought each other’s forks away from the last piece like swords and finally it was Harry who speared it and brandished it between their faces like a trophy. This, however, clearly showed that while Harry found himself honour-bound to some sort of I-got-it-thus-it’s-mine code, Louis regarded it fair game until it disappeared inside either of their mouths and leaned forward, closing his lips around Harry’s fork and stealing it from him.

“You!” Harry protested, but laughed, not really minding. He went on anyway, making a show of clutching his hoodie over where his heart beat.

“You thrust your blade right through my heart! I don’t know if I can ever trust you again, Louis. This is just too much of a betrayal. My dignity I can bear to lose, but my pie? _Oh._ ”

Louis giggled along with Harry’s display, both warm and happy and relaxed. When Louis cooled off a bit, Harry reached out with his hand and brushed a bit of mince meat – it looked to be a piece of candied cherry – from Louis’ cheek.

“You’ve got...” he said and Louis held still and let him. Louis rubbed over his cheek to get the residual stickiness off and Harry looked around for something to wipe his finger off with, holding it up between them. Without thinking, Louis leaned forward and closed his lips around the tip of Harry’s finger. Harry drew in a sharp breath and felt his eyes go wide at the motion. He froze up and when Louis looked up at him and he stared back he felt like all the things he’d been doing so well at ignoring over the past few months were rushing through his body and written in his face as plain as day and now Louis would see, he would have to know and this was bad. Very, very bad.

“Um,” Harry started, even though he had no clue where to take this. It didn’t matter anyway though, because Louis let go of his finger and leaned up and in. Harry jerked back and practically jumped up and off the sofa, his heart beating a steady rhythm of “oh god – oh god – oh god” into his chest, even when all he could think of was Eleanor and how this couldn’t happen.

“I’ve... got to...” he started, vaguely pointing in the direction of the kitchen and before he could finish his sentence or Louis could stop him, he turned tail and fled. He leaned against the kitchen counter, staring outside into the darkness for a while and willed his heart to calm back down. Louis didn’t come after him and when the lads came over half an hour later for pie tasting and dinner and Playstation tournaments, they acted as if nothing had happened as if in silent but mutual agreement. They carried on like that for the next couple of days and for all intents and purposes, Louis seemed like he’d truly forgotten about it. Harry, on the other hand, couldn’t get the brief moment out of his mind for even an hour. Had Louis really been about to kiss him?

The possibility that Louis really had been leaning in for a kiss made questions and feelings and doubts pop up in his mind like mushrooms. Even so, they weren’t nearly as unpleasant as the thought that maybe Harry had read the situation entirely wrong and had inadvertently given away more than he’d wanted to with his reaction. What if Louis was completely weirded out now and avoiding him?

The questions were driving him crazy and so Harry shoved them back down as far as he could, resolving to deal with them when he’d get home and away from Louis, where he had time to let his mind run through all possible scenarios. For now, he’d carry on exactly like he had the past few months and like Louis was now. Like there was no reason at all to go crazy.

\---

The plan to bake his mince pies as late as possible so he could send them home with the other lads vaguely fresh had existed since Harry had made the mince meat, so when he was just about to get started and Louis trudged into the kitchen with that look on his face that he always wore when he was about to ask something of Harry he didn’t really want to ask, or knew Harry wasn’t going to want to give, Harry lifted an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I asked Eleanor over,” Louis started and Harry’s face fell, because he’d said he was going to help. Or at least provide company. Even if things were still slightly weird between them – at least Harry was still worried – he had been looking forward to spending the day with Louis.

“Can you... leave?” he went on carefully and for a moment Harry was simply stunned. Not only was Louis backing out of their baking together, he was asking him to leave? He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and instead of an answer he pulled out his phone.

“Hey, Ed. ... Yeah, um, fine, listen. I’ve got an issue with my oven and... yeah, exactly, could I...? Yeah? Thanks. .... No, I’ll be fine. ... I promise not to set your kitchen on fire. ... Okay. ... Yeah, I’ll be over in half an hour. Thanks, mate.”

He hung up and dropped his phone back into his jeans pocket, sending Louis a look and wordlessly beginning to pack all the things he was going to need – ingredients, little pie dishes, baking paper – into a canvas bag. Behind him Louis sighed and probably raked a hand through his hair. Sometimes Harry really hated that he didn’t have to look at Louis to know exactly what he would look like, what he would do with his hands, the downward curl of his lips.

“Harry, I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“Save it. You can explain later. Right now I don’t want to hear why my best mate is kicking me out of my own kitchen on the one day he knows I need it. I can handle you blowing me off for Eleanor. I get it. She’s your girl and I’m just ... Harry. But Ed knew within three sentences that I was gonna bake for you guys today and he offered me to use his kitchen even though he’s not even gonna be at home. So, yeah. I’m just gonna... leave and come back tomorrow to do presents with the boys and say goodbye, but right now... just no, okay?”

He cast a quick glance over at Louis at the end of his little speech and Louis looked terribly small and a part of Harry wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him he wasn’t angry, not really, he was just hurt and confused and other things he shouldn’t ever be, but. But the bigger part of him was hurt and confused and needed to get out of here. He barely remembered grabbing his coat and essentials so he could stay the night at Ed’s, or how he got there, but when Ed opened the door to him – in a jacket and shoes himself as he was just about to leave – he could tell from his worried frown that he was still carrying around storm clouds.

“Will you be alright for a couple hours?” Ed asked him, putting a warm hand on his upper arm.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry answered and put on a brave smile, slipping out of his shoes.

“You can call the others over if you want. Or just Liam. Or something,” Ed said and stepped outside. It only occurred to Harry then that he could’ve gone to either of his other three band mates’ flats. He’d never even thought about it. He knew they would’ve asked about Louis and been worried and he didn’t really want to deal with this. He couldn’t tell them what he thought was wrong, because it could take them all down and right now it was probably better for him to be alone and calm down.

“No. Thanks, but... I don’t think...”

“Alright. Happy baking then. I’ll be back in two or three hours.”

Ed pulled him into a quick hug and then turned and bounded down the stairs, off to do his own last few interview appointments before a well-deserved Christmas break. Neither of them were going to complain, but he was sure Ed was looking forward to a few days, weeks even, of not really doing all that much and just enjoying time with family and friends as much as Harry was. He made his way through Ed’s eerily quiet apartment carefully and when he’d dumped his bag in the kitchen, the first thing he did was turn around back into the living room to peruse his CD collection, pulling out something he remembered Ed playing him once and putting it into the stereo, turning up the volume so he could still easily hear it in the kitchen.

He immersed himself in the music and the baking and when Ed rapped gently on the doorframe to the kitchen, he flinched and looked up, startled at the interruption.

“You’re back already?” he asked, before he caught sight of the darkness outside and the numerous pies scattered all over Ed’s kitchen.

“Um... are you baking your feelings?” Ed asked, instead of pointing out the obvious – he’d been gone for just over three hours. Despite himself, Harry had to chuckle a little at the question.

“No. I just want to give these to everyone as presents, so no one feels like I made extra effort for someone and of course all my band mates have to have a ridiculous amount of siblings,” he frowned.

“Wait, you’re baking for their whole families?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, pushing another tray with six little pie pans into the oven.

“So that’s.... how many?”

“Well, five for Liam, six for Zayn, six for Louis, Niall gets a jar of mince meat, cause we’re not sure if he could take the pies onto the plane and he doesn’t want to risk them getting squashed in his luggage. Then... three for Lou, her boyfriend and Lux. One for Caroline. One for the other Caroline and Lydia. One for Chris. And four for you. I’m gonna make mine at home.”

“You’re baking 28 pies.”

“Yeah.”

“In one day.”

“Yeah.”

“How many have you got by now?”

“18. I just put another six in, so I only need to make another four,” Harry grinned proudly and Ed burst out into laughter. Harry frowned at him, but let him laugh himself out as he rolled out more of the short crust pastry dough to line the pie dishes with.

“You, Harry Edward, are actually amazing,” Ed then said, patting Harry on the back and then dropping into one of the kitchen chairs. “Anything I can do to help?”

Harry looked up and licked his lips in thought, looking around.

“Well...”

“I offered. It’s okay to accept. I’m wound up anyway, had to perform at my last thing.”

“Well, okay. There are fold up cardboard boxes in that canvas bag over there and a roll of wrapping paper. I was gonna glue it onto the boxes so they’d be ... prettier.”

Ed grinned and shook his head at him, but didn’t comment and just took the items out of the bag.

“I’ll be in the living room, gluing, then,” he announced with a grin and Harry shook his head at him fondly, filling his last pies with mince meat as well.

“I’ll clean up and be right out to help.”

“Don’t stress yourself out. You’ve gotten this far, don’t rush and fuck something up now. ‘S not worth it,” Ed shrugged and went to settle down in the living room. They both worked in silence for a while, until the CD started re-playing again and Ed shouted,

“Can I put on a different CD though?”

“It’s your flat! Of course you can!” Harry shouted back and stretched, his spine cracking after being hunched over so long. But he’d done it. As soon as they were all baked, he’d have made 30 pies and while the assembling was definitely more difficult than making the mince meat – who’d’ve thought? – it still wasn’t that much of a pain. The oven alarm went off just as Harry had cleared the last dish into the dishwasher and wiped down the table and he turned to take out the pies with a grin. Baking always left with him a feeling of accomplishment, especially in these quantities and when he was doing it for other people. He set the six little pans on the stove to cool off and pushed the remaining six – two for Ed and him to eat right away – into the oven. Heaving a sigh of relief, he undid the apron and decided to wait for the other pies to be done before he’d take these ones out of their pans. They were too hot to comfortably work with anyway and he didn’t need the dishes again, so he might as well wait.

He dragged himself over into the living room to join Ed and let himself fall down onto the sofa, Ed having pushed the couch table out of the way and commandeered the floor to work on. He seemed perfectly content, wrapping the boxes in the wrapping paper and Harry shot him a fleeting smile. He’d really been a godsend in a way. When they started out as One Direction and he’d felt a distance spring up between his friends back home and him, he thought he didn’t mind much, because it wasn’t like they’d stopped talking to him all together and he’d made four amazing new friends who he could share all his experiences with. But then as time dragged on, he realised that they really were still young enough for common experiences to be necessary to continue close friendships. All his friends were in college, thinking about A-levels and uni and he was flying around the world, recording pop songs and listening to girls scream his name every-fucking-where he went. Soon he didn’t feel like he could really talk to them about any important issues anymore and it was then that he realised that sometimes he needed someone outside the band to talk to. As much as they talked about and trusted each other with everything he couldn’t imagine telling one of the guys about his... thing. With Louis. They were all too closely interwoven into the problem to offer some sort of perspective and even though he hadn’t told Ed about it either, even just being able to talk to him about things that had absolutely nothing to do with his band proved to be exceptionally relaxing.

“So, what’s up with your oven?” Ed asked casually, his tongue sticking out a little in between his lips as he concentrated on gluing the wrapping paper onto the box as straight as possible.

“Um...” Harry replied. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to say if Ed asked for a second.

“I know you lied, by the way, if that helps. You sounded properly pissed off when you called. And not the ‘how dare that oven break when I need it’ kind of pissed off.”

Harry gaped at him for a moment but then sighed. He had been in quite an emotional uproar when he’d called. It shouldn’t surprise him that a part of that had come through.

“Louis kicked me out,” he said.

“Kicked you out? Of your own flat? Shit, are you two fighting? You never fight!”

“No, we’re not fighting. Well, not really. He invited Eleanor round and asked me to leave,” Harry explained, making a vague gesture with one hand and pulling a face because he still couldn’t believe it. Sure, she was his girlfriend, but... bros before hoes, right?

“So you called me?” Ed asked, a strange quality to his voice that Harry couldn’t really interpret.

“Yeah, I... should I call one of the other lads? I can leave as soon as I’m done,” Harry offered immediately.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant. It’s just... you’re like brothers, right? So why call me?”

“Cause sometimes you need a friend and not family,” Harry shrugged, feeling a blush creep over his cheeks. Ed didn’t tease him for it though, he just looked up and studied him for a moment before nodding to himself.

“So there’s more to this than just Louis asking you to leave and you needing a convenient oven – which, by the way, is a perfect set up for dirty jokes.”

Harry snorted in amusement despite himself and then squirmed a bit, the sofa suddenly being a little less comfortable than it had been a couple minutes ago.

“Um, I guess?” he ventured carefully. Ed snorted in amusement.

“It’s okay. You’re staying the night, right? I’ve got time.”

“How do you...?” Harry asked, because he hadn’t even asked Ed yet, if it was okay for him to stay the night.

“Your stuff’s in your bag,” Ed simply shrugged. “Anyway, since you’re here, you might as well talk.”

Harry knew he had a point and it would probably be better if he got it all out, but he felt his throat close up and his heartbeat speed up and he couldn’t get a word out. Ed let him stew for a while and calmly went on sticking wrapping paper to cardboard boxes. When he was done with the box he was currently working on, he set it aside and looked up at Harry again.

“Is this to do with your crush on Louis?” he asked and Harry couldn’t help the way his mouth dropped open.

“No, seriously,” he said, “how do you do that?”

Ed just laughed and shrugged.

“Hey, we’re friends. I’m allowed to notice things, and anyway, it’s kind of obvious to anyone outside your little group who spends a little time with you. I think the other three don’t notice ‘cause you two being all over each other is the only you they know.”

Harry just continued to stare at him, letting the info sink in. If he was really that obvious... Usually people just assumed they were joking around, though. Playing it up for the cameras. Sure, there were those fans of theirs who took it upon themselves to give every little insignificant glance meaning, reading into words Harry didn’t even remember saying, but no one believed those, right? They didn’t even believe themselves from what he’d gathered. And no matter how much Sugarscape hinted at it and how blatant they were about wanting Louis and him to hook up, they’d never actually said anything about it to their faces.

“Don’t worry, people are stupid. Supposedly, both of you are straight and you’re boys, you get away with a lot, with the whole bromance deal,” Ed said, seemingly knowing where Harry’s mind would wonder. Sometimes Harry really wondered about him.

“Are you sure you’re not psychic?” Harry mumbled, prompting Ed to laugh.

“No, otherwise I’d know what happened to make this such a big deal all of the sudden. You coped okay with it before.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve had a crush on him ever since I’ve known you, but you never really seemed bothered by it. Something must’ve changed.”

Harry could feel himself shrink into himself, because Ed was saying all these things he’d been trying to shove deep down and ignore for so long. He hadn’t really wanted to ever look at them and now Ed was dragging them up, the entire tangled bundle of it, and treating Harry like he expected him to know one end from the other, when Harry was just completely lost as to what to do with all those complicated feelings.

“He was with Hannah when we met,” Harry started out, because that at least was indisputably true.

“Well, yeah, but he’s with Eleanor now. How’s that different?” Ed asked, seeming genuinely curious.

He had a point. For all the time Harry had known Louis, he’d only very briefly been single. Nothing between them had changed, even, during that time. They’d always been close and they hadn’t been any closer or less close during Louis’ single months. The problem really was that some part of Harry had dared to imagine, just briefly, that it could be him. That Louis could someday look at him and think, “Yeah, this is what I want”. And even though Harry had tried not to, because he knew how unrealistic the chances of that happening were, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from short flirtations with the idea of actually, truly dating Louis. It was ridiculous, because it was only a crush and he wasn’t even that into him. He liked him, sure, he was his best friend. And Harry wasn’t blind, he knew that he was ridiculously attractive, but he’d never let his little crush grow into anything serious. At some point though, some part of his heart must’ve latched onto the idea of really being with Louis and run with it because as he thought about it now, he could feel himself yearn for it, a deep-seated ache, like an infection that had grown and festered without him noticing until it started to hurt.

He buried his face into the fabric of the couch as he felt tears sting behind his eyes and heard the rustle of Ed’s clothes as he got up and sat back down beside the sofa.

“Shit, Harry, I didn’t mean to...” he started, putting a warm, heavy palm in between Harry’s shaking shoulder blades.

“’S not your fault,” Harry mumbled back, trying to swallow the sobs that wanted to escape him and pressing his lips together as soon as he’d gotten the words out. He wasn’t sure if Ed had even heard or understood him, with the position he was currently in. They stayed like that for what seemed like endless moments, before Harry felt Ed lean closer and press a kiss to the back of his head.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he promised quietly and Harry wanted to sit up and wail, “HOW?!” but he just clenched his teeth and tried not to move at all, not wanting to give in to the building pressure in his chest.

“I mean... I don’t know how and I guess you feel like the world’s ending, but I think that’s not supposed to happen till 2012.”

Harry felt one of the corners of his mouth twitch and he appreciated the effort but he was sure that even if he had the strength to laugh right now, it’d turn into crying the next second.

“Harry, come on, say something. You’re not moving and I can’t see you breathing. It’s kinda creepy.”

Harry bit his lip again and scrunched his eyes shut tighter, shaking his head, because the only thing thrumming inside him was I’m in love with Louis and he couldn’t say that. Saying that would be acknowledging it and acknowledging it would be acknowledging the inevitable heartbreak that would come with it. Before Ed could try coaxing him into speaking again, the alarm on the oven sounded and Harry bounded up off the couch, anything to get away for even just a few seconds. He turned off the oven with shaky hands and ignored that Ed had stepped into the kitchen behind him and was hovering just inside the doorframe. He took out the tray with the pies on it and placed it on the stove with the others, before turning around carefully. He didn’t mean to, but his eyes caught Ed’s briefly and then he was burying his face in his hands and the tears he’d done so well at keeping at bay tumbled down his cheeks. Ed was with him in seconds, wrapping him in his arms and pulling his face against his neck, murmuring soothing things that Harry couldn’t quite make out to him, too focussed on trying not to fall apart completely.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he breathed between hiccoughs, his fingers curling into his hair and pulling, trying to make the pain overwhelm the need to cry. It wasn’t working.

“Hey, no, come on. You’ve got nothing to apologise for. You’ve been storing this up way too long, this needs to come out”, Ed said, pulling him a little closer still before chuckling briefly.

“Ignore the awkward choice of words there,” he added then and Harry wished he could laugh at that.

They stood like that for long moments, Ed’s arms around Harry and his cheek pressed to his head, engulfing as much of him as possible and Harry feeling small and crying until he felt too exhausted to cry more. He pulled back and Ed let him, slowly releasing him, his hands gripping Harry’s upper arms instead.

“You’ll be alright,” he said again, searching out Harry’s blood-shot eyes. Harry nodded, his face still scrunched up against what felt like tears welling up again every few moments. He knew he was going to be, it was just a matter of not feeling like it at the moment. Ed stepped away a little and reached for the kitchen roll, offering it to Harry, who took it with a shaky little smile and wiped the tears off his face before blowing his nose.

“I’m so stupid,” he whispered then, wiping his hand over his face and trying to dry the rest of his tears even though new ones were still springing up in his eyes.

“No, hey, you’re not stupid,” Ed interrupted him immediately.

“But I am!” Harry protested. “I fell in love with him! Why would I do that?”

“I don’t think you get a choice in that, Haz,” Ed said carefully.

“But I do! I managed not to for so long and then he... he broke up with... and I just... I wished ...” he broke off, rubbing a hand over his face as more fresh tears started spilling down his cheeks. Ed kept quiet, staying back and waiting for Harry to get out what he needed to.

“I just wanted it to be me,” Harry confessed, sounding small and scared and hiding his face again as Ed pulled him back against his chest. He swallowed against his own tears, because he’d be no use to Harry if he were to cry as well, but seeing people cry always made him feel terribly helpless. And there wasn’t really much he could tell Harry to make it better. There’d been a time when he’d thought Louis returned the feelings, but he seemed so genuine with Eleanor, it made it hard to believe he could be harbouring secret feelings for his best friend. And Ed wasn’t about to build Harry up to the possibility only for him to get his heart broken.

This time, when Harry had cried himself out, Ed grabbed him and the kitchen roll and dragged them both over to the sofa, pushing Harry down on it so he was cuddled up between Ed and the back rest.

“I feel so pathetic,” Harry mumbled into the fabric of his hoodie.

“You’re not pathetic. You’re just a regular human being, like all of us.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, that’s bound to be a shock.”

Harry laughed humourlessly and toyed with the draw strings of Ed’s hoodie for a few moments, resolutely not looking at him.

“I thought... for a while I thought he might... like me back. Guess that was stupid.”

“No, Harry, none of this is stupid. Feelings are messy. Especially this kind. And Louis’s really hard to read.”

“Do you think he likes me back?” Harry asked quietly, half-wishing Ed hadn’t heard him because this truly did make him feel pathetic.

“I honestly don’t know,” Ed sighed. “I used to think he did, but... he’s been with Eleanor so long now...”

“I think he almost kissed me last week,” Harry offered up when Ed trailed off.

“What?” Ed asked looking down, trying to catch Harry’s eye. Harry though only buried his face more decisively into Ed’s chest and continued to talk into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“We were on the couch and horsing around a bit and he had pie on his face so I brushed it off and he just, like, put his mouth on my finger at first and I didn’t know what to do and then he sort of... let go and leaned in to my face, all slow. I didn’t know what to do, so I fled to the kitchen. I mean, he is with Eleanor. Even if I want him to kiss me, he can’t just...”

“Yeah, no, that. That is weird,” Ed agreed and sighed. “Sorry, I’m not really much help.”

“You’re helping. You’ve not flipped out yet.”

“Why would I?”

“I’m cuddling you and I might be gay.”

At that Ed snorted in amusement.

“You wouldn’t be the first gay to do that. And anyway, from the way you talk about snogging Caroline Flack, I very much doubt that you’re gay.”

Harry just sighed in answer. They lay in silence for a while and Ed hated that he had to keep the subject going because Harry finally seemed calm.

“Are you going to tell him?” he asked, keeping his voice low in an attempt to keep the safe cocoon around them intact.

“I don’t want to,” Harry mumbled and sighed again. “But I think I have to. We need to talk about that whatever it was last week and... well. I think I should tell him, so we can figure out what to do.”

“Yeah,” Ed agreed, selfishly glad that Harry was rational enough to make all these points himself and he wouldn’t have to do it for him and convince him.

“It’ll have to be after Christmas though. We won’t have time to really get into it tomorrow before we leave.” This time the sigh Harry heaved seemed to be more annoyance than anything else.

“Just try and put it out of your mind until then. Above all, Louis’s still your best friend. I don’t think you could ever truly get rid of him even you wanted to.”

“Way to make that sound completely creepy,” Harry snorted, a little bit of amusement stealing back into his voice.

“Here to help,” Ed offered and yelped in surprise when Harry twisted his nipple through his clothes in what Ed only knew as Louis’ signature move.

“See if I ever let you use my oven again...” he mumbled and pressed a palm against the sensitized nub.

“As soon as you’ve had some of the pie, you will,” Harry promised and pushed himself back up, remembering that he’d made extra for Ed and him to have right away. He padded into the kitchen, Ed following him curiously and grabbed two of the by now mostly cooled-off pie dishes before turning to Ed.

“Do you have forks?”

“Of course I have forks, Styles, what do you think?” Ed rolled his eyes and pulled open a drawer, taking out two forks. Harry only smiled at him, his face still showing signs of his earlier tears but looking like he was gaining his strength back. They returned to the sofa, sitting down on it this time and on Harry’s inviting shrug each dug into their still a little warm pies.

“Mate! This is delicious,” Ed exclaimed enthusiastically after he’d swallowed his first mouth full. “Seriously. I think my mum’s already a bit in love with you, but with this you’ve definitely won her over.”

“That’s all I ever really wanted,” Harry grinned at him, but the spark in his eyes seemed to be genuine content. As they finished off their pies, they slowly returned to their usual talkativeness and banter. Harry seemed to relax more and more with every passing minute and when they were done boxing all the pies (“You’re tying them up with string?” – “Yeah, why? Isn’t that one of your favourite things?”) and labelling all the boxes, they decided they were too lazy to cook and called in a Chinese, popping Aristocats into Ed’s laptop and huddling close on the sofa to watch (and possibly sing along).

 

The following day Ed looked at the pile of boxes Harry had taken on himself to deliver to his various friends this morning and decided to accompany him.

“Really, you don’t-”

“I kinda do, actually. There’s no way you’re carrying all these. And I feel like I should probably meet up with Chris and you lads for holiday wishes and such anyway, so shut it, I’m coming with you.”

Harry smiled gratefully and the morning passed in a blur of smiles and ‘thank you’s and ‘Merry Christmas’es. By midday, they found themselves falling into Harry and Louis’ shared flat, big smiles on both their rosy faces. Ed especially sported an impressive blush from the cold.

“You are so fucking pale,” Harry laughed as he hung up his coat. He vehemently denied his mood to drop as he strode over into the living room and set the boxes of pie down, Ed trailing after him to do the same. He walked on through to the kitchen to put the kitchen utensils away quickly and then turned around to Ed.

“The others will be here in about half an hour, I think, but I still have to pack. You can either hang around here or come watch me, I guess.”

“Watch you pack? Oh, yes, please. Teach me the secret of how you get all those blazers into a suitcase!” Ed teased and jumped out of the way of the hand Harry reached out to him to swat him up the back of his head. As they re-entered the living room, Louis traipsed in from the other side, looking exhausted and apologetic and like he really needed a hug. Harry froze for a moment, but then turned to Ed, opening his mouth. Before he could even say something, Ed lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and said,

“I’m not getting in the middle of this. I’ll be in your room.”

Harry and Louis both shot him grateful smiles and when Ed disappeared out of view, Harry let his gaze settle back on Louis.

“Harry...” Louis started out, but Harry shook his head and crossed the distance between them, pulling Louis into a firm hug. Louis sagged against him and lifted his arms to wind them around Harry in return.

“I’m sorry,” Louis whispered and Harry only squeezed him a little tighter.

“I’m not mad at you.”

They stood there for a few moments, before Harry pulled back and Louis let him go, albeit reluctantly.

“I still need to pack.”

“Sure.”

“We need to talk though. Just... we won’t have time today and... after Christmas? I’ll come see you on Boxing Day,” Harry offered. Louis looked at him like he knew what they needed to talk about.

“Yeah, alright.”

Harry smiled at him tentatively, before stepping away and leaving the room to join Ed in his bed room.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Harry replied and shot Ed a reassuring smile. Ed left it at that and flung himself down onto Harry’s bed, encouraging him to get on with the packing and “initiate him in the art of the bottomless suitcase”. Harry snorted amusedly, but made a show of packing anyway.

The minutes passed far quicker than Harry thought and just as he zipped up his suitcase, Louis called them down, because Zayn had just arrived. He was quickly followed by Liam and Niall and the six of them spent half an hour catching up and wishing each other Merry Christmas before Ed left them to their present exchanging. They all giggled at each other like children and promised not to open any presents before Christmas morning – which was sure to result in an enormous amount of phone calls and texts. When Harry started distributing pie boxes, Zayn and Liam stared at him in shock, only Louis and Niall having known about Harry’s plan before. He’d sworn to them that they didn’t need to get his family anything, that he just did this because he wanted to, but it was fun watching Liam and Zayn flounder and squirm anyway.

As the afternoon passed, they got picked up one by one, Zayn’s mum having offered Louis a ride as well, since he’d left his car in Doncaster when coming down to London last time and it was only a little detour on their way to Bradford. Niall had left first, having a plane to catch and Liam had turned down the offer to share with Harry as his sisters had wanted to make a trip out of coming to get him. Harry was consequently the last to leave, locking up Louis and his flat when his mum texted that she was waiting downstairs for him. It felt weirdly like going on holiday and he guessed he’d really fully settled into this life now.

The apprehension over having to wait for three days until he was going to get the chance to speak to Louis properly – especially when that time would be spent with casual and celebratory phone calls every now and then as it wasn’t only Christmas but also Louis’ birthday – melted away as soon as his mother pulled him into a hug. He wasn’t going to think about this. There was nothing he could do. He was going to go home and enjoy a lovely Christmas with his family. He was going to call Louis and wish him the happiest of birthdays and tease him about being old and the second present he had for him that he had held back today and planned on giving him when they next saw each other. There was no reason to fret over something he couldn’t change.

“Hi, darling,” his mum smiled into his hair as she leaned up to embrace him.

“Hi, mum,” he grinned back.

\---

Christmas morning saw Harry and Anne in the kitchen, baking a batch of mince pies with the jars of mince meat Harry had brought home, while the rest of the family was gathered around the open plan kitchen, chatting away happily. Harry couldn’t get the smile off his face and it only intensified when one by one, texts by his bandmates and Ed trickled in through the course of the day.

_I h8 u. mum wnts 2 adopt u n wishes u wr her son_

_Big thanks from me gram for the mince meat! We’re all luvvvvin it!! X_

_Hey, bro. Everyone loved the pies. Thanks!_

_As predicted, fam told me to propose. I told them Louis got there before me. They’re disappointed but send love. Happy Christmas, master chef!_

_Flick and Phoebs may be discussing my dowry . I thought you said those mince pies were safe to give to kids ?! x_

Towards the evening it started to snow and Harry and Gemma already set up bets on who could make the better snowman, regardless of whether there would actually be enough snow come the following morning. It was in the middle of that heated discussion, Anne and Robin having tea in the kitchen, while their step-siblings merely watched their interactions with amusement, that Harry’s phone beeped with another text.

“I know you’re very important, but can’t you turn that off, Hazza?” Gemma rolled her eyes.

“No,” Harry told her and grabbed for it, checking to see who had texted him. He would’ve ignored anything work-related, actually, having decided that it couldn’t possibly be more important than spending a nice, relaxing Christmas with his family, but when he looked at the screen he saw Louis’ familiar grin, indicating that it was he who had texted.

“It’s Louis,” he explained as he opened the text and missed his sister’s rolled eyes, but not her “of course it is”. He stuck his tongue out vaguely in her direction and stared at the little letters on the screen of his phone.

_Come outside, please._

Drawing his brows together, he got up from the floor slowly and pocketed his phone.

“I’ll, uh, be right back,” he announced, slightly confused, and went to pull on his shoes and coat.

“Haz?” his mother came out of the kitchen to question, when she spotted him by the door.

“Just need a quick breath of fresh air. I’ll be back inside in a moment,” he smiled at her.

“Are you alright? Were you and Gemma fighting?” she asked, worry creeping into her tone.

“No, no, everything’s fine. I’m just sort of overheated. Gonna cool off for a second.”

“Well, okay,” his mum replied, still seeming confused. He just continued to smile reassuringly at her and pressed a kiss to her cheek before stepping outside into the cold winter air. It was almost pitch black outside, the street lights being sparse and the one closest to their house broken at the moment. But he knew what he was looking for and there behind his mum’s and Robin’s cars sat Louis’ sleek, little Porsche. His footsteps crunched on the freshly fallen snow as he approached Louis, who was leaning against the boot, breathing against his hands.

“Hi,” Harry said, because he didn’t think ‘what are you doing here?’ would be an appropriate greeting. Louis jumped a little and swivelled around, almost losing his balance on the snow covered ground and clutching the car to stop himself from falling over. Harry let out a small laugh.

“God, you scared me,” Louis said unnecessarily. After a beat though he righted himself and smiled at Harry.

“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.”

“It has crossed my mind,” Harry teased, stepping forward to lean next to Louis. He turned back to the house briefly, but as far as he could see no one had followed him outside or was trying to spy on him through one of the windows, so he relaxed slightly.

“I know we said we were gonna see each other tomorrow to talk, but... you’re supposed to do what you want on your birthday and be with your family on Christmas and those two always conflict for me. I really didn’t want to wait to talk to you, so I spent yesterday and most of today at home, but then mum saw how antsy I was so she told me I should just come here. I was going to call first, but I wasn’t sure if you’d let me come over if I told you, so... sorry for crashing.”

Louis rushed his entire speech out still facing the ground and Harry couldn’t help a small smile despite how he could feel himself grow slightly apprehensive. He thought he’d have time to think out exactly what he was going to say to Louis but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe it was for the better.

“Okay, so... talk?” Harry half-invited, half-asked.

“I broke up with Eleanor,” Louis sighed, running a hand over his face.

“What? When?” Harry asked, confused. Louis had never mentioned anything about this to him and if he was being honest, it stung.

“It’s why I asked her over and you had to go bake at Ed’s. We weren’t really working out, we both knew it. When Christmas came I kinda found myself wondering when I’d see you and the lads again, but I wasn’t really bothered about her not being there.” He interrupted himself with a helpless shrug, like his own indifference bothered him, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. “She’s an absolute babe and we get on well, but there’s just no real spark between us. We tried, you know, but... it’s not meant to be, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry frowned, putting a hand on Louis’ arm. Louis turned to smile at him and shrugged again.

“Nothing to be done about it. We’re not in love and we’re not going to be. It was better to stop now before we kind of got tangled up in something that would end up hurting someone.”

“I guess,” Harry agreed, glad that Louis didn’t seem too shaken by the break-up. The split from Hannah had been a mutual, rational decision too, but Louis had seemed a lot more regretful over it than he seemed over letting go of Eleanor now.

“And I... I’m sorry I just kind of kicked you out that morning. I would’ve warned you sooner, but I was really confused and I had to work it out in my head first.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” Harry assured him, having forgiven Louis days ago. He still cherished the explanation and it felt a lot less hurtful now that he knew why Louis needed him out of the flat though.

“Still,” Louis insisted, shooting Harry a look to show that he really meant it.

“Okay,” Harry accepted. If Louis needed to feel like he really had something to apologise for, he’d let him. “I forgive you.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not done apologising,” Louis joked and Harry felt his heart rate pick up, thinking he knew what was about to come.

“You’re not?” he played along.

“No, I saved the best for last,” Louis valiantly continued, but the smile on his face was a little shaky. Neither of them said anything for a while, but then Louis took a deep breath, obstinately facing the side walk even as Harry stared at the side of his face.

“The sofa thing. I’m really sorry for that too.”

“You mean... with the pie?”

“Yeah.”

Harry bit his lip, still not sure about what had actually happened that afternoon. He was pretty sure Louis was going to kiss him, especially if he was apologising for it now, but what if he somehow misread the situation completely? He could hear his heart beat rush in his ears, but he cleared his throat lightly and turned to Louis again.

“Were you... were you going to kiss me?” he asked, wishing he could just shrink or vanish or didn’t have to do this. Sadly though, none of these options were really open to him.

“Yeah, I think so,” Louis admitted, sounding small himself. “I wanted to at least.”

“But you were with Eleanor!” Harry protested, still having to wrap his mind around the fact that Louis and Eleanor were now past tense, even if he wasn’t going to give in to the same illusions Louis’ split from Hannah had tempted him into.

“I know. I’m really sorry,” Louis repeated, finally raising his gaze to meet Harry’s head on. His cheeks were flushed, but Harry couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or if Louis was blushing.

“It’s okay,” Harry repeated, because he really wasn’t mad at Louis for any of this. He was just worried that their friendship would have suffered under any of the awkwardness that could’ve come from these things. Louis smiled at him before he drew his eyebrows together.

“Wait, is that why you left?”

“What?”

“Because I was with Eleanor. Is that why you got up and ran?” Louis questioned. This time it was Harry’s turn to drop Louis’ gaze and stare at the ground like it was the most fascinating thing ever.

“Um... yeah,” he finally confessed, a defensive edge to his voice because he still felt he was right to do that and indirectly confessing to Louis that he would’ve kissed him under different circumstances left him vulnerable.

“Just... that?” Louis asked timidly.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, not willing to truly confess to the full magnitude of his feelings for Louis so easily.

“I mean...” Louis started but trailed off. He licked his lips and caught Harry’s gaze, not letting it go and seemingly giving himself an internal push to carry on.

“I mean, if I kissed you now, would you still run?”

Harry couldn’t help blinking owlishly at Louis.

“Louis...” he breathed instead of an answer, because he couldn’t let himself believe what it sounded like where this conversation was going. But Louis seemed spurred on and determined to see this through now that he’d started. He grabbed both of Harry’s hands and stood in front of him, still not letting him look away.

“Because I couldn’t see myself ever doing Christmas with Eleanor, but I can see myself doing it with you.”

“Well, we’re best friends,” Harry interjected.

“No, not like that. The whole thing. Arguing over tinsel and being a pain as you bake. Buying presents for our mums and sisters and deciding who to see first on Boxing Day, your family or mine or whether we should just call them all down to London, because they’re our family anyway. I want to go to winter fairs with you and drink terrible mulled wine and eat chestnuts and kiss you under every mistletoe. Harry....” he trailed off, pulling at Harry’s hands like he was trying to make him see.

“I can even see us write letters to Santa with little ones and set out cookies and dress up for them to catch one of us as Santa lays the presents under the tree and have them argue over whether to come see us or the in-laws years down the line. Harry, I don’t... I don’t think I want Christmas without you anymore.”

Harry stood rooted to the spot, his hands clutching back at Louis’ like he was afraid he’d disappear if he let go even for just a moment. Louis had basically just laid himself bare and described a possible future for them together that went way beyond anything Harry had ever imagined. It was terrifying and exhilarating and Harry didn’t want to promise those things because he didn’t trust plans that were further in the future than a week. Even those he regarded as shaky at best. But the emotion behind those images Louis had laid out... that had to be real. At least right now. And right now was really all Harry could ask for, wasn’t it.

“Please say something,” Louis begged, his teeth worrying his bottom lip and his eyes scanning Harry’s face like a skittish animal ready to bolt.

“I’m in love with you,” Harry breathed because that was really the only thing of value he had to say to any of this. “I think since you mentioned kids, I can tell you this.”

Louis stared at him for a moment, like it took him a few seconds to process the information and then he laughed breathlessly.

“Good. Good, cause I think all that really only meant that I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to laugh and Louis joined into his low giggles after a brief moment, their heads bent towards each other with mirth.

“So what do we do now?” Harry then asked, looking back at Louis.

“That depends,” Louis answered.

“On?”

“On whether you’re gonna let me kiss you.”

“Yes,” Harry answered without hesitation, meeting Louis halfway and pressing their lips together in a sweet and chaste kiss that had him shaking inside his skin. He let go of Louis’ hands after a while to curl his own into the fabric of Louis’ jacket at his hips, while Louis wound his arms tentatively around his neck, pulling him down, since he was standing closer to the sidewalk and on slightly lower ground than Harry. Harry felt his entire face and body heat up from the contact of their mouths after he’d moved through the sluggish fog of surprise that this was really happening and found himself doused with a range of sensations. The way Louis smelled, the way he breathed and moved, the way he felt as he held onto him, the way his lips tasted. Harry thought they should’ve probably kept their first kiss chaste and really more of a peck, but the longer his lips lingered against Louis’, the less this seemed like a feasible idea and when Louis wound his arms around him more fully, he gave a whine and pulled him in, opening his lips with his tongue. Louis let him inside with a guttural noise and Harry thought for an insane moment that this couldn’t possibly be real. But the way Louis’ tongue curled around his was too visceral to be anything but real and he clutched him closer and kissed him deeper.

When breathing was becoming difficult and his toes felt almost frozen inside his shoes from standing still so long, Harry pulled back and rested his forehead against Louis’, not daring to open his eyes.

“Harry?” Louis asked quietly.

“Hm?” Harry asked back.

“You’re gonna ask me inside, right, ‘cause I’m getting really cold.”

That startled a laugh out of Harry and he leaned in to peck Louis on the lips again. One peck turned into two, turned into three, turned into lingering kisses and another snog, until Louis pulled back.

“No, really, I’m freezing.”

Harry just laughed and kissed him again.

“I’m not joking, Harry,” Louis insisted, squirming in his arms, but his face was split into a wide grin, so Harry wasn’t too worried and leaned in to quickly kiss him again.

“Please, you can snog me inside as well. Better chance of my lips not turning to ice and falling off even,” Louis pleaded and Harry laughed and pressed a last, lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Will you come inside and stay the night and sleep in my bed, please?” he asked, an air of innocence to his voice that was completely destroyed by the filthy way he grinned at Louis. Louis only laughed at him though and opened the boot of the car to pull an overnight bag out.

“Presumptious, are you?” Harry asked and negated the statement completely by lacing his fingers through Louis’ and pulling him in the direction of the house.

“Just well-prepared,” Louis grinned back and leaned into Harry’s side as they walked up the little paved way to the front door. Harry rang the door bell and watched the worried frown on his mum’s face melt into one of confusion and then happiness as she recognised Louis and pulled them both inside. Louis never let go of his hand; not while Anne hugged him or Robin slapped him on the back, not even when they were ushered into the living room. He just motioned for Harry to sit down in one of the big arm chairs, squishing in next to him and wrapping himself in his arms, so his head came to rest on his shoulder and his legs were curled over Harry’s lap. Harry wasn’t sure if the smiles shot their way when he turned his head to press a kiss to Louis’ head were because everyone had figured this would happen sooner or later or because this was just normal Larry behaviour to them anyway, but he didn’t care. He was exactly where he wanted to be with the people he wanted to be and when he and Louis curled up in bed together later and Louis kissed him good night and whispered “Happy Christmas” to him, he knew that that was exactly what he was. Utterly happy.

**The End**


End file.
